


Meeting Eyes

by Master_iPad



Category: The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Genre: As per usual the fandom I write for is obsolete, Don't Read This, I refuse to acknowledge the surname 'Campbell', I'm sorry for writing this, It doesn't work at all but I really wanted to see it happen, M/M, Ripred/Gregor (LAST NAME NOT PROVIDED)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_iPad/pseuds/Master_iPad
Summary: Upon first glance, the overlander didn't seem like much.But then, the same could be said for Ripred.





	Meeting Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> (Basically just everything that happened in Ripred's eyes that could be taken a different way. For the record, I do ship Gregor and Luxa but... I really wanted to read this, and since the fandom is obsolete, and even Gregor/Luxa is hard to find, there were zero Ripred/Gregor fics. I had to. I'm sorry (lol who am I apologizing to? There's no one here).
> 
> If something seems weird or fishy... um, yeah, there are some parts I look at where my eyebrows raise, too.  
> And yeah, there's probably not gonna be a part two, even though nothing has actually happened. Not like anyone cares, but like... y'know, just thought I'd put that out there.

Upon first encountering the overlander, Ripred had not been impressed.  
Though the boy had only been in the Underland for, at most, a week, the alarm, fear, and anger had flashed through his eyes before anything else, just like all the others there. If he had been trained, no doubt he too would be at Ripred’s throat. It was to be expected, he supposed, as rats had a reputation in both worlds, but he found it ironic seeing as humans were the ones who had truly earned their title.

_‘Killers.’_

Ripred tasted the word on the tip of his tongue, but he would never have given the humans the satisfaction of hearing him spit it out. Who knew? Perhaps this boy would have a talent for killing as well. They called him the warrior, after all, and he was not so young to hold a blade. His eyes meandered lazily from the queen to her cousin, both with eyes narrowed, swords drawn, and something within him burned with disgust at the kind of world they lived in. A world where it was commonplace for children to fight, and to die.  
Then Vikus invited him to dine, and the burning feeling immediately went away.

Though the toddler was annoying, and hardly like any of his own pups had been (at this thought Ripred stuffed a chunk of cheese into his mouth to stifle the bitter taste welling up in his throat), it was almost refreshing to see the lack of fear in her eyes. As the saying went, courage only counted when you could count, but there was still something nice about being looked at without fear or revulsion.  
There was no place in the Underland for one without fear.  


“Don’t do that,” a voice sounded, as though without thinking, after he had shown the girl fear. This voice was full of it, and that was more like it.  


Ripred turned to the overlander with shiny black eyes. The boy seemed taken aback at what he saw there, and he smelled something like… empathy? Loneliness, sadness, a shared pain? Nowhere near the level of an underland soldier, but quite a bit more than your typical overlander as well. What surprised him most was that an overlander could see it at all. Underlanders either didn’t see whatever he had in his eyes or didn’t care to, and Ripred was just fine with that. It let him forget that he hated seeing his eyes, open and very much alive… It took a lot to kill someone like him. He would know.  


In those moments waking from sleep, dragging himself to a stream to drink and clear his head, when he was particularly delirious after some nightmare or other, it was a shock to see Silksharp’s eyes reflected in the muddy water. He’d reach out, wonderingly, desperately, not touching the surface for fear that she’d disappear… but then he’d blink, and she would be gone anyway. All that would be left were his own tortured eyes staring back at him. Where did she go? He’d slip into the water, searching for her, wanting to join her.  


But he was valuable, and the most valuable soldiers were kept alive. After all, what good was a soldier who couldn’t fight?  


“Ah, this must be our warrior,” he murmured softly, eyes tracing the contours of his face and comparing them to the emaciated features of that creature down in the pit.  


“How very like your daddy you are.”  


“Don’t scare my sister,” the boy repeated, face set, but a slight tremor in his voice, “She’s only a baby.”  


Baby? Hadn’t this so called ‘baby’ defied the queen of Regalia, ridden bats with joy where grown men would cry, and caused the spinners to cower in their webs? Wasn’t this ‘baby’ the queen of the roaches?  


He looked around at his company. They bristled in discomfort and agitation. Ready for battle, or as ready as you could be facing a rager. Instinctively, he began plotting out an attack. Solovet would obviously be the most difficult to defeat, so a surprise attack would be in order. Slash her threat before anyone could react. It would take at least two seconds to sink in, and another five for the children and young man to run to him. He’d dispatch Vikus, allocate a claw each to the boy and man, trip the queen with his tail and slice her stomach with a foot; if the bats interfered he’d shred their wings and- no. He jerked his head slightly. How long had he and Solovet been friends again, that he’d so easily return to that mindset? Certainly no good would come of killing the queen and her kin. He stuffed more food in his mouth, forcing his muscles to relax. It’d been long since he’d mastered the rager in him, but sometimes the urge popped up now and then.  


No one else had taken a single bite since he’d sat down, but he was used to this. Even among rats, his dry wit and bad manners made for poor dining company.  


“Meet you, Ripred the gnawer,” Vikus had introduced him, and was met by a chorus of gasps. He stole a glance at the overlander, and had to stifle a laugh. The poor boy was white with shock, his mouth hanging open slightly and dread prominent on his features. Just wait until he heard that Solovet and the others were _leaving._  


“We do not travel with rats,” the queen spat. Ah, but he’d have to deal with these homicidal brats as well. If they chose to come, that was. The fact that anyone was even considering was already a landmark event. Sandwich’s drivel indeed held much sway over the humans.  


They bantered pointlessly for a bit, and Ripred looked to the boy, who had remained silent all this time, but perhaps, with the loudest war of all. Inside.  


“What say you, Warrior? Do you refuse to go with me as well?”  


_‘Ha. What are you expecting? He’s human after all.’_   


Vikus piped up.  


“You need Ripred to guide you to your father. These tunnels are unmapped by humans. You would never find your way without him.”  


He was pushing it a bit, but it was true enough. There were many paths to the land of the rats, but hardly any of them were safe, and things would get even more dangerous once they were in and looking for his father. Ripred gave them a 1 out of 50 chance of making it there without his help. Fair odds, for a pack of humans in gnawer territory. The battle on the overlander’s face raged, and he stared at the rat with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty.  


“So, what’s in this for you?” he asked. Ripred’s eyebrows raised. He was smarter than he looked. It was a decent question, and useful for determining whether or not a creature could be trusted, so long as the reasoning was sound.  


“Well, Warrior, I am planning to overthrow King Gorger and I need you to help me.”  


“By doing what?” Uh oh. Another good question. He hadn’t really thought that far, only that if he was the fabled warrior of prophecy, then there must’ve been something he could do to help.  


“I don’t know,” he admitted, “None of us does.”  


The overlander stood up suddenly, and waves of fury hit Ripred’s nose. His reasoning had not been sound enough, he supposed.  


“I have to talk to you alone,” he’d growled at the old man. Vikus rose calmly, and they’d walked over to some corner, whispering over a scroll.  


Ripred continued to eat in silence, eyes sliding from creature to creature. Everyone (excepting Solovet) was watching him, as though he’d suddenly chuck his food and start a brawl or something. He rolled his eyes internally. Humans and their bonds were so paranoid. The little girl hid behind the crawlers, poking her head out to watch him every so often, and hiding again if he so much as glanced at her. Ah, that was better. This was how children should behave.  


Footfalls sounded lightly on the stone floor of the cave.  


“Okay, Boots and I are going with the rat. Who else is in?”  


_‘Well, what a surprise. We may have a quest yet.’_ The crawlers followed their princess, then the queen her cousin, and their bonds, albeit very, very reluctantly.  


He may well have witnessed a miracle that day.

The time came for the adults to return to Regalia (though you’d assume that Sandwich’s revered prophecy would hold more influence over three humans than some trivial war), and Ripred didn’t even need his nose to sense the helpless, angry fear that had overtaken his new companions. What a dreary lot.  


“Fly you high,” Vikus had mumbled pathetically to all three kids. They said nothing. Vikus stood still for a moment, and Ripred was struck by the thought that Vikus was just about as old as he’d ever seen him. Another internal battle played out on the overlander’s face as he tried to decide whether or not to answer.  


_‘Do it, boy,’_ he thought, _‘The old man may die before you see him again.’_  


He wouldn’t say such a thing aloud- the choice was the overlander’s alone- but Ripred knew firsthand the pain of not being able to say goodbye. It was one that haunted him daily. Just as the bats took off, and the rat thought disappointedly that he hadn’t found it in him to say it after all, he smelled a surge of regret, and the overlander leapt forward.  


“Fly you high, Vikus! Fly you high!” he shouted.  


The old man turned back to wave, and he was unsurprised to see the streaks of tears. Vikus had always been sentimental.  


Turning his back to the disappearing figures, Ripred smiled.


End file.
